


Of a Lonely Star

by semperama



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Band of Brothers [2]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: After it’s over, after Bastogne and after Foy, Dick finds Gene and takes him aside, intending to thank him.





	Of a Lonely Star

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the rare word prompt "sparsile", meaning "of a star, not included in any constellation."

The words ‘you oughta know’ ring in Dick's head, as does the way the Doc’s face looked, his expression contorted with anger, his eyes hard and dark like they were hiding something a little more like fear. It all sticks with him, eating at him, making him feel childish and stupid. And never more so than when they’re in Bastogne and he knows Gene is taking care of the men better than he ever could. He’s stuck back away from the line, after all. Hearing the explosions, hearing the cries of the men. The screams of _Medic!_ He can picture Gene running between foxholes, bringing healing or, failing that, comfort.

After it’s over, after Bastogne and after Foy, Dick finds Gene and takes him aside, intending to thank him, but when they are standing there in the dark with no one else around, he finds he doesn’t have the words. What are thank yous in the face of the burden Gene bears? What right does Dick have to thank him anyway, like Gene did him a personal favor? As much as he feels like these men are his, maybe he’s sharing that responsibility, that sense of ownership, more than he wants to admit. Nix scraped some of it away from him by sheer genius and tenacity. Gene has paid for it in blood—other men’s blood.

“You alright?” is all he can bring himself to say in the end. Gene looks weary now; it’s in the slump of his shoulders, in the thin line of his mouth. His fingernails are dirty, and Dick doesn’t think it’s dirt.

“Yessir,” Gene says. Dick isn’t much for being called ‘sir’, but he loves the way Gene’s voice sounds when he says it— _’yessah’_. Just the sound of that voice calls up warmer places in his mind, places he’s never even been, where it’s so hot and humid he might forget the Ardennes exists.

“You would tell me if you weren’t, wouldn’t you?” he asks, reaching out to put a hand on Gene’s shoulder. It’s so Gene knows he’s serious, he tells himself. Not just to touch him, to feel him real and solid and present, but so he knows Dick means every word. “I know you had a hard time of it.”

“Easier than Toye and Gaurnere.” Gene sways so he’s leaning into Dick’s hand, so Dick is almost holding him up. “Easier than Muck and—”

“Alright,” Dick says. He doesn’t need a list of the casualties. The list is etched on the back of his eyelids, stenciled inside his brain forever. “Alright. I just want you to know that you can come to me if you need to talk.”

They are cut from the same cloth, Dick thinks. Put one foot in front of the other. Don’t think too hard about it. Do your duty because you have to, and do it well, and all the rest doesn’t matter. Even if ‘all the rest’ is laying awake at night and wondering if you could have done something differently, saved another life. Often Dick feels like he’s doing all this alone, even with Nix so close they could be sharing skin. And that’s okay for him, but he doesn’t want Gene to feel alone too.

“I know, sir,” Gene says. He nods slowly, blinks slower, like he could fall asleep right here.

The urge to pull Gene into his arms wells up hot and insistent in Dick’s chest, but he can’t do it. Won’t. It’d be too close to admitting how hard this is. Instead, he palms the side of Gene’s face, a gesture he means to be paternal but ends up feeling like so much more than that, especially when he can’t resist skimming his thumb across Gene’s cheekbone, wiping away a smudge of dirt.

“Get some rest, Eugene,” he half-whispers. His hand falls back to his side, and he turns to go.

“Sir?” Gene calls. Dick turns around and raises his eyebrows. “You get some rest too, alright?”

Neither of them will, Dick knows, but he smiles and nods anyway, and then makes himself walk away.


End file.
